


Stories of Submission (One-shots)

by Scarletembers



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Play, Anal Sex, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Belts, Bondage, Cop Fetish, Daddy Kink, Dominance, Double Penetration, F/M, Fetish, Humiliation, Masochism, Master/Slave, Objectification, Pain, Painplay, Public Humiliation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Sadism, Submission, Verbal Humiliation, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25462804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarletembers/pseuds/Scarletembers
Summary: A very non-vanilla collection of a few stories on D/s  relationships from the submissive's pov (Erotica/ Smut/18+).
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. Eroticism of Batons and Dosas

**Author's Note:**

> If you are into uniform fetishism, food fetishism etc., you might like it.

I wake up shivering of cold. It is 7.30 am, and Delhi winter is eating me alive. More importantly, I am late. I take my phone, still dizzy of sleepy exhaustion and check for any new messages. I have one unread message from his number: "Don't be late. And don't forget to tape up your cunt."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, i mutter to myself. I jump up from bed, and manage to get ready in half an hour. Worse still, I can't find my adhesive tape and it takes me ten minutes to find my brown tape, and ten more minutes to tape up my cunt and clit over the labia. I wear my short black dress and shiver at the thought of going outside. I almost think of texting him, imploring for the permission of at least being allowed to wear my panties, but decide against it. Fuck, i will be late. I take the metro, and of course people are giving me strange looks for wearing a frigging sleeveless dress in this terrible winter. I reach this South Indian restaurant where we were supposed to meet, 10 minutes late. It is near his station and their food is decent. I see him sitting, in his _police uniform_ , with his baton on the table, to his side, and with a newspaper spread out in his arms.

"You are late," he remarks looking at his watch when i approach the table. I gulp and mutter an apology. He gives me an angry look, and tap the batton lightly on the table and points at the opposite chair and i sit down.

The waiter comes around, and he orders some dosa and sambar for himself, and looks at me piercingly before ordering just green tea for me. I don't protest, because i don't take anything heavy or solid if I'm anticipating anal sex, but still a little bit of breakfast would not have hurt. And i was pretty sure he ordered dosa especially, for himself to spite me. The waiter comes with the order soon enough. And well, he does make a show of dipping his dosa in chutney and sambar and with the occasional sip of his cappuccino while i sulk with my green tea, pretending that my stomach is not rumbling at all. Even the waiter gives me a piteous, confused glance, when he orders a second serving of dosa just for himself. I almost want to cry but he is taunting me for being late and i decide not to say anything. He tells me he will have to report for work by afternoon and we chat away for a while.

Soon, we take a room in a nearby hotel. The room was spacious, and was carpeted in a plush red shade of polyester. He asks me to remove my dress, and to stand by the side of the bed. I take off my dress, and he inspects whether i have taped my pussy intact and gives a satisfied nod.

"On your knees now, and I want your legs spread," he says and sits down on the bed, keeping his baton beside him. I kneel before him, and I feel hot surges of anticipation already building up within me. His black boots are immaculately polished, and his police uniform well ironed. The police cuffs are hanging by his belt.   
My head is facing his crotch, and I so badly want to put my head against the bulge against his uniform crotch and take its smell in. Oh, boy, I can just get off to the smell of that dry-cleaned uniform. He notices that my eyes are on his crotch and laughs, leaning back on the bed against his elbows, while raising his right foot to prod against my taped labia.

He moves the boot tip against the tape, and my pussy lips squirm with desire. I can feel my pussy goo dripping down inside the adhesive tape, loosening it, as he continues to circle and rub his boot against it.

"Please..." I mumble, awkwardly, hoping desperately for the tape to come off. He keeps on prodding against my clit with his boot tip and I just desperately want to take off the tape and feel it directly. I wriggle my pelvic floor towards his boot, so as to feel it harder against my clit. And as wet as I was, the two layers of adhesive tape come off halfway through with that single movement. I knew right away that I had made a big mistake and braced myself as he withdrew his leg from me and sat upright.

"You always have to be a _brat_ , don't you?" he asks, with an edge to his voice.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't mean to...I didn't know..." I whisper, terrified now.  
"Of course you didn't know it would come off," he says with a smirk, looking at the gaping part of the tape, smeared with my goo over it, "but i see what has caused this mischief to happen".

He rips off the tape altogether with his hand, and places it in the middle of the bed.

"Inadvertently or not, you have displeased me. The occasion calls for some _disciplining_ , don't you think?" he asks.

I wonder why every question by a Dom is a rhetorical question; "Yes, I think so, sir" I answer nevertheless, trepidation building within me.

"Get up, I want you to lean over the bed with your face positioned above _that_ " he says suddenly, getting up from the bed and taking his baton in his hand. I fidget nervously at the sight of his baton and lean over against the bed, with my mouth hovering above my goo which was sticking onto the tape. I hear the unclicking sound of handcuffs from behind. He asks me to put my arms behind me, and he cuffs them with a click.

"You are going to receive blows on your ass. Every time I strike you I want you to take a lick from that. Let's see how many beating would it take before you lick it fully clean."

I realize what he is doing here; if I try to eagerly lick off all the goo in one sweep of the tongue, the adhesive tape will surely stick on to my tongue and he will punish me more for my eagerness. I decide i have to lick of the goo without much contact with the tape,and that means I will have to take more beating. I try to calculate how many times--before I can anticipate it, the baton hisses through the air and I know he is not going easy on me, and a hard blow _stings_ on my butt-cheek and I suppress a groan as he barks, "Lick now".

I'm too overcome with pain and confusion and I lick some off by the side and I don't know why but the first blow always seem the hardest to me. He lands the second, and I take another careful lick of my goo and the third blow strikes harder and there is something about being beaten by a police baton that gets my clit to throb like crazy; it makes me feel like a common degenerate law offender. It takes four more hard blows before I had cleansed the tape of all my wetness but still he beats me three more times on my ass and I know better than to complain.

I can feel the whole of my ass burning with the hard blows he had dealt. He had never beat me this hard before.

"You will now know better than to be an eager cunt, won't you?" I feel his hands on my butt-cheeks,rubbing them, gauging on the impact of the blows, spreading the cheeks apart.

"Yes, sir," I mumble.

"I can't hear you!" he barks, "You show up late, you ruin the tape and now you mumble!"  
I am almost on the verge of tears and i reply louder, " I am sorry sir, I said yes, I guess I will know better now".

"That needs to be seen," he says with a smirk, and without any preamble inserts one end of the baton into my asshole. I repress my surprise and hold still as he pushes it inside. I can't see but I can feel it penetrating deep inside me and he moves it in and out, and it feels so good and so bad simultaneously. My cunt is dripping again and he stops moving the baton. He grabs me by my cuffed hands and motions me to be on my knees. As i fall on my knees, i realize that he must have generously lubed the baton before he stuck it in my asshole because it was now threatening to slide out.

"You will be a good girl and keep it inside, won't you?" I had already _clenched_ my ass muscles tighter around the baton, and held on to it firmly. He walks around to face me and unzips his pants to take his cock out. Just looking at it could make me drool. "Now, be a good girl and please your sir," he demands and i wrap my mouth around his cock shaft, slowly taking it in, slowly circling my tongue around its tip. I remind myself not to loose the grip on my ass on the baton, and suck his cock with a relish.

Once his cock becomes rock hard against my mouth, he takes me up in his arms, and lies me on the bed. My ass is still clenching on to the baton hard, and my cuffed hands lie above my head and he remarks, "I see my girl has learned her lesson for today," and I see him taking off his uniform carefully, before spreading them out on a nearby chair. He spreads my legs apart, removes the baton and insert it again and pound it harder against my asshole. I'm churning with need and desire to be touched by him and implore pathetically, " Please, sir..."

He lets go of the baton, leaves it in my ass before he puts on a condom. He climbs over me and puts his cock in my wet cunt in a sudden thrust. He holds me firmly by the waist and he beats against my cunt slowly, while nibbling against my neck. I moan wanting more and more, and he holds me down with his arms around my neck. He pounds me harder and steadily until i feel the orgasm building up on me and i stiffen up, edging and he withdraws suddenly.

"Not so soon," he scoffs and I can't do anything but plead, as he removes the baton from my asshole and turns me over to my all fours.

I stiffen up for his huge cock to slide in my ass, and he puts it inside slowly and starts pounding me gently.

"A good girl has got to yield all her fuckholes, hasn't she?" he whispers against my ear and I nod. His right hand finds its way to my clit and rubs against it rhythmically as he starts to fuck my asshole. He uses his other hand to hold me against my waist as he fucks my asshole deeper and I stifle a cry. My swollen clit throbs uncontrollably against his hard, expert fingers and I feel all the muscles in my asshole as I climax frantically. He climaxes three seconds later and we fall to bed panting.

I don't realize it but I doze off immediately after that, with him spooning against me, for some time. When I wake up, he has fully dressed himself, and there is no wrinkle in his uniform. I notice he had taken the cuffs off me and has tucked me inside the blanket. He was putting on his boots, and asks me, "You must be really hungry. I will order something up. What will you have?"

"Dosa," I say without having to think twice, " With sambar and chutney. And some chai". He smiles and lands a kiss on my cheek and says, "Atta girl".


	2. An Imaginary encounter with Tommy Hilfiger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read on if you have a thing for belts or belting in general.

One thing I miss because of this lock-down is travelling in the metro, eyeing men on their way to their workplaces, with tucked in shirts. I mean I don't gawk at random guys, all I'm interested is in having a look at their _belts_. Trust me, I could get super wet by looking at chic belts, and it's one thing that I haven't done in some time.  
So, all I have been thinking about in the last few hours is about men's belts. I could not picture any belt in my mind right then, so I just decided to search for men's belts in Myntra. I filtered it down to leather belts. A dark-brown, textured leather belt makes its appearance on my screen, among others which don't strike me as much as this one. I click on it, it is by _Tommy Hilfiger_ ; I swipe on the different pictures of the same belt, eagerly scroll down to read its description with a throbbing clit and a dripping cunt.

The sleek and lustrous tang buckle of the model is killing me. I slide my hand under my pants, close my eyes and picture a middle-aged man named Tommy Hilfiger, in a black formal blazer and meticulously polished black shoes. I picture him running his fingers along the hundreds of belts hanging in his large closet, each bearing his initials on it. I see myself bending over his carpet, naked, on my all fours,with my wrists and ankles constrained tightly with two black belts of his choosing. I look up and see him examining many of his belts, hanging across the rack in his closet, while he decides on the one which would suit the occasion. He pulls out _the dark-brown_ , shiny leather belt and approaches me with it.

He stands over me and considers me for a moment.  
"Do you know what happens to girls who use the belts I take so much trouble to make as wank fodder?" he asks flatly.

I shake my head and take a peep at the belt hanging by his side. The shiny tang buckle end of it is curled up in Hilfiger's right hand, the other end, slightly swaying in a carefree manner, almost indifferently anticipating my soft flesh. " _Raise your back_ ," he says nonchalantly. I bend my shoulders and buttocks so that my curved back is exposed, and I lower my eyes out of fear.

Of course, I don't see it coming, but I hear it. The thick leather belt _slices_ the air, so quick with a move of his hand, and end with a thump on its destination, feeling for a moment, the protesting throb on my skin, and indifferently slicing and cutting down the air to find the same spot again. I bite down my lips from crying out, and concentrate only on maintaining my posture as he brings the belt down, again and again on my back. I struggle to keep the posture, and as my eyes fill over with the hurt, and I try to focus only on the _dramatic_ sound of the belt cutting the air and climaxing on my skin, repeatedly.

I can't keep a count of the beating and I feel my goo dropping down to the floor and I wish so desperately to touch myself despite the belt lashing out at the same sore, blistered spot on my back continuously. " _Raise your back properly_ ," Tommy Hilfiger says sternly, with several hard kicks to the middle of my butt-cheeks with his black boot and my asshole throbs with seering pain.

"I see this is making you leak, you filth. Ass up, now," he says sneeringly after he notices a bit of my pussy goo has stuck on to his boot with which he kicked me.

I sob and do as I'm told, and the brown belt cracks on my skin ever more severely. He folds the belt, halving its length and to increase its impact and I realize with the first strike on the lower part of my ass, that he has changed sides as well; that I'm being assaulted by the tang buckle end of the belt now. The sting of the polished steel makes me whimper and still Tommy Hilfiger indifferently beats on, the buckle end cruelly meeting often on my pussy, making it throng with pain.

I have lost all track of time now and is brimming up with the pain and I feel my hands give over, my head falling on the ground, while I try to still keep my ass up.

"How do you like it, you pervert-y slut?"

Hilfiger asks with a soft laugh as I reach out with my tied hands underneath me, and grazes my pussy, colored with blood and goo, and climax uncontrollably, moaning out loud, not feeling anything now but the surge of pleasure throughout my body while the walls of my cunt contract and loosen as if in a fit, again and again, and I fall to the ground, not sure whether the leather belt is still whooshing through the air to meet my blistered skin.


End file.
